What Should Have Been
by tavia454
Summary: Author Yugi Mutou's life has never been a bed of roses, but when he finds himself stuck in the middle of a legend he has researched for most of his life, falling for a king long dead, he finds the future was not as certain as he once thought. YxY
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 15 – page 324_

**The Pharaoh jerked forward in reflexive shock as he felt the touch of a malevolent presence against the back of his leg. It slithered up the side of his body leaving a trail of coldness where it came into contact with his skin. A shiver ran the length of his spine at the bone chilling sensation. Even though he couldn't see it he could feel it, hear it, smell it even. The essence of evil seemed to permeate the very air he breathed.**

**And he was afraid – more so than he had ever been in his life.**

**The ground trembled violently beneath his feet every so often, making the young royal constantly aware of the danger that was drawing ever nearer, even as his men scurried to complete the tasks that he had set upon them. He feared that this was one battle his Khemet would not withstand. The sheer hopelessness of their situation nearly overwhelmed his mind and he shook with the consequences of what would become of their world should he fail in his appointed task as guardian of the black-lands.**

**In an effort to calm his desperate thoughts he turned his attention to overseeing the placement of their artillery. Shadows surrounded the barren landscape as far as the eye could see, making the set up difficult – if not impossible, but still his men persevered. Here, in this barren wasteland, was where their final stand would take place, far outside the border of the royal city. Should the demon make it past their defenses all hope for the world as they knew it would be lost.**

**Their only reprieve lay in the ancient scrolls that Hm-nTr Seth had retrieved from the wreckage of his father's tomb. If his High Priest couldn't decipher them then their world would most likely return to the dust from whence it came – for they had no other recourse but to fight until there was not a one left to resist.**

"**Pharoah!" He turned his head as a welcome voice reached his ears. Now if only his Priest had the answers he sought…**

"ARG!"

The furious clicking stopped and letter by letter the words on the screen began to disappear even quicker than they had formed, courtesy of one slender finger resting on the delete button.

Once the screen was completely blank the owner of that finger thrust his hands into his unusual tricolor hair and tugged viciously in helpless frustration. Damn it all! He couldn't do this! He couldn't! The colors on the screen blurred together through his tears, as if mocking him and he turned away from his newest failure to stare blankly out at the dismal sky in an attempt to gather his scattered thoughts.

He had been on this chapter for so long, attempting to string together another thread, put together another thought. It wasn't as if he hadn't imagined this scene in his head at least a hundred times in the past two weeks. But after everything that had happened in the past couple of days he couldn't find the words to describe it. And at that moment he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to.

The icy rain drizzled continuously down the frost laden window, its persistence only adding to the overall depressing atmosphere inside of the dimly lit room. And in the gloom a lone teardrop trickled down the side of his face as he reflected on his past mistakes and a future that had once looked so bright to him, if only for a short time. A choked sob cut through the near silence…

It shouldn't have been this way. Not like this. The whole situation was wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Slender hands slapped down on the desktop, as he fought for control over his unruly emotions.

Writing was supposed to be his emotional outlet. But how was he to relieve his stress through the characters if he couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, much less write one down. Why couldn't he get this to come out right? Why was this so hard?

"Why can't I get this right?" He screamed aloud into the room, as if expecting an answer. And in a way he got one.

_It's your fault! Your fault Yugi Mutou! It was your stupidity that did it. You killed Ryou! You!_

"No! G-go away!" Yugi cringed, lashing out against the niggling little voice in the back of his head that had, for the last three days, plagued him to distraction for all of his poor decision-making in the past seven months. But really, what other choice did he have at the time? "I-I didn't do it! I didn't…" He choked back a muffled sob and gave another violent tug to his hair in order to relieve some of the pressure that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. "It wasn't my fault…please…I didn't do it…"

After a few tense moments he managed to untangle his hands from his hair, allowing them to drop to the desk, where he laid his head down on top of them, tears flowing freely down his face to form a puddle on the expensive oak. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. The pressure was killing him. It was tearing him apart.

Why did every choice he made in life come back to haunt him in this way?

The only thing he wanted out of life was a friend. It was the only thing he ever longed for – someone to talk to, someone to share interests with, someone to listen, and maybe for them to confide in him as well, despite his weirdness. And for the last year and a half he had been in heaven, his wish granted in the form of a shy, soft-spoken white haired teen named Ryou that had been living in the last foster home that he was remanded to before he was able to scrape up enough money to file for emancipation.

But thanks to his stupidity, and one judge's decision that he was not responsible enough to take on the burden of caring for another, Ryou was lost. Taken from the world by his own hand.

For a moment Yugi thought he would choke on the bitterness. It was all his fault! Maybe the judge was right. It was his big mouth and rash decisions that brought about this tragedy, after all. His fault. He should have been the one to pay for his own mistakes. Not Ryou…never Ryou. Tears flowed relentlessly and the petite teenager pounded his head repeatedly against the desk in an effort to relieve his inner pain.

If only he could finish this story, the one they had both worked so hard to bring to life. Then, maybe he could find peace with his friend – join him in the abyss – find him in the next life. But he couldn't…not yet. He had obligations.

He had promised. Promised to tell the story, to find his spot in the limelight, to make something of himself – even if it was only for a moment or two. He owed Ryou the completion of this pledge before he joined him, even if it meant that he now had to deal with a character that was solely based off of his friend's ideals and personality.

It wasn't fair; Ryou should have been able to see this through to the end, to see the character born of his own imagination become an icon. They had made so many plans for when he would become a famous author. And now that he was here...

_Without Ryou_.

He cringed again. Sometimes there was no silencing that little voice. But it was his decision to take his signing bonus and strike out on his own. And it had been his – and only his – decision to file the motion for emancipation three months later, after the story that Ryou had hand-picked to send to the publisher hit the big time, when he got the massive bonus check in the amount of $253,000 for coming in tenth on the national best-selling list.

It was his decision to leave his friend behind – sort of.

He dropped his head in his hands with a silent sob. Ryou…Ryou, who had always been there with a bright smile and a kind word, despite the pain that he kept so well hidden from prying eyes.

He sniffled and closed his eyes wearily, one more silent tear slipping from beneath his lashes as he remembered what he wished so badly to forget. That day, the beginning of their dreams, the beginning of their plans…the beginning of the end. Why did Ryou have to pay for his mistakes?

…_He gripped what was left of the shredded envelope in his trembling hands, as tears rolled down his pale face. He hated his life. He hated the foster care system, hated the officials that always looked down their noses at him, as if he were a piece of dog shit smeared across their polished courtroom floors._

_And most of all, he hated the families that took him in – not to give a stable, loving environment as they claimed – but for the measly amount of money that the state wanted to pay them for his keep._

_He sighed, closing his eyes. Alright, so maybe he didn't hate anyone. But right now it sure felt like he did – even though he did understand their motives. He understood that everyone was just trying to get along in this cold, unfeeling world. His hands clenched uselessly. It's just…just…why did they have to step on him – and others like him in order to do it? _

_He was so close to having enough money to file for independence. So close. Or he was, anyways, before his newest foster mother learned about his talent for writing – or rather the pay that came with it. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should have found a better hiding spot for his cherished acceptance letter and signing bonus than in between loose floorboard in the tiny room that he was made to share with three other boys._

_Someone was bound to come across the envelope eventually. He knew that. But he had figured that, since no one other than himself and his three roommates ever ventured into that far into the room, his treasure would be safe for a time. Now he was out almost twelve hundred dollars due to that mistaken assumption, and it remained to be seen whether or not he would be out the rest of the money that came from his illegally signed contract._

_If he were honest with himself, he would have to say that he hated tattle-tales most of all. Well, okay, maybe not hate – but an intense dislike at the very least. Oh god how was he going to tell Ryou?_

Shaking himself out of the depressing memory of almost a year ago he let out a pathetic sniff, wiping the rest of the tears on the sleeve of his brand new shirt and turned the laptop off. It was no use now. He had nothing to give to this story right now. He couldn't concentrate to save his life.

_Or anyone else's…_

"Stop it! J-just s-stop it!" He cried out to no one in particular as the tears threatened again at the internal reprimand.

A listless glance at the clock told him that he still had another twenty minutes before he had to deal with his twice weekly torture that most students called English Lit. For a moment he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not. It would bring him a most needed break from his nagging conscience, but at the cost of what was left of his sanity. His professor was a real slave driver.

For a couple of seconds he actually considered skipping the class completely. No one would blame him with what he had been through this week. And the class really wasn't worth much to him now. But again, it was a part of his promise to Ryou that he would get his degree. And he was quite certain that no one would give him the homework assignment that he'd miss if he didn't go. Rarely anyone talked to him as it was.

Just like high school. Only more expensive.

He had always had a hard time making friends. Being two grade levels ahead of a person's age tends to isolate them a bit. And after his first novel was published and his pen name was declared a literary genius life became even tougher.

To the avid fiction reader his books were like a work of art, flowing seamlessly from romance to mystery, horror to heartbreak without losing sight of the characters true personalities. But to the foster families that took him in after his parents' untimely deaths he was an anomaly. A petite, slightly feminine child who rarely spoke, preferring to spend his time with his nose buried in the legends of the past as if that alone would bring him closer to his long lost loved ones.

He was often looked at with pity by those who became his temporary guardians – and scorn by the rest of the foster charges that shared the household as well as the students in whatever school he attended. He had nothing in common with anyone his age.

But when he met Ryou that day it was like the two of them clicked together – almost like two consecutive pieces of a puzzle. They had so many things in common. Besides both being children of archaeologists, both of them were enamored of the ancient Egyptian culture. And both of them were orphaned around the age of ten.

But it was their combined interest in the legend of The Nameless Pharaoh, a young royal who had saved his world from certain destruction – giving up his life in the process, which had brought them together. This story was born of a well-known Egyptian legend that they both had heard long ago and fell in love with.

This story that he was working on was to be the culmination of their combined love for ancient history and the Egyptian culture. But now there was no one to share the victory with when their prized creation was finally unveiled to the public.

Yugi grimaced at the thought. Ryou…Oh god...Ryou...I'm sorry...

…_His sullen gaze lowered to the oversized, blue school uniform that had been handed down to him from one of the family's previous foster children. It was two sizes too large, making him look as if he were swimming in his clothes, faded and literally coming apart at the seams._

_According to his foster father with his diminutive size he was lucky to have been given one of the boys' uniforms rather than a girls' – which was almost the same thing, really, the cut of the jacket being the only difference. He hadn't found the man's insinuation very funny at the time, and still had a hard time finding humor in his inadequacies, even though everyone else did._

_Oh how he loved being on the shorter side of life. High school uniforms didn't cater to people of his petite size. This travesty was literally all he had to wear. Even at home._

_Unless, of course, he had a court date or Family Services was coming over for a surprise visit. Surprise. What a laugh, he smirked sourly at his reflection. They always announced their visits. And on those days he had real clothes to wear, not this noticeably poor attempt at saving money. Every home was the same. This one would be too, of that he had no doubt. A forlorn sigh escaped his lips at the thought._

"_Don't worry about it so much." Another solemn face appeared in the mirror beside his. "You get used to it after a while."_

"_Really? When?" Yugi softly questioned the other teen, wondering why he had chosen to talk to him. No one ever talked to him! He was too good at making himself invisible._

_The pale, white-haired teen gave an imperceptible shrug before walking away. "When you learn to stop caring."_

Not long after that moment that he learned what it was like to have a friend. A true friend. Someone to share his deepest, darkest secrets with – and have them share theirs in return. Why did he have to bring up the subject of taking Ryou with him? If it weren't for his big mouth maybe his friend would still be alive…maybe…

…"_What in the hell did you do now?" Ryou hissed quietly when they were out of earshot._

"_Nothing, why?"_

"_I've never seen her so happy, yet almost…feral, in my life." The white haired teen replied. "So give over, what'd you do?"_

_Yugi kept his gaze on the ground. "I submitted one of the stories as a historical fiction to that Tri-Star publishing you found."_

_Ryou paused in his walking to stare at the other teen in astonishment. "No 'effin' way! You really did it? You really turned one of 'em in? Which one? Wow! I didn't think…So then what happened?"_

"_I sent them Destiny Preordained." Yugi blushed fiercely as he tried to answer the other teen's rapid-fire questions. "They gave me money, said they wanted more."_

"_The legend of the twins? That was one of the best ones!" Ryou sucked in a breath. "I told you you were good! I'm proud of you man…but what's she all up in arms about. This's got nothing to do with her!" Ryou angrily jerked a thumb back at the house they had just left._

_The smaller teen's shoulders drooped. "She found the money from my first check."_

"_Oh." Ryou shook his head, marveling at his friend's newest misfortune. "I'm sorry. I take it they spent it and now want us to respect their new property? Damn, I'm sorry."_

"_Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. It was Arlen that ratted me out. He saw me try to hide it. I didn't think anyone was around when I hid it. But I guess he was…somewhere." Yugi's gaze drifted back towards the ground._

"_That little jack-ass!"_

"_Yeah, but they took the book!" Yugi smiled at him, and for once it reached his eyes. "Mr. Jamison, when he asked for rights to publish said that they were impressed with the whole story in general. And it was all thanks to you! Thank you for finding that address. I don't know if I would have had the courage to even go looking for it. You're the greatest friend I've ever had!"_

_The smaller teen gave him a quick hug and Ryou embraced him back with a grin. "I always knew you had it in you. Good for you Yugi."_

"_So…you comin' with me?" Yugi asked hesitantly._

_Ryou squeaked once before catching the smaller teen up in a bone crushing hug. "I thought you'd never ask! Hell yeah!"_

So now here he was, a famous author with two books on the best selling list, and another partially complete story waiting in the wings – a story book ending for someone who had lived with nothing for so long. But the sacrifice had been so great…too great. Amethyst eyes clouded over again and Yugi quickly grabbed the remote, switching on the news to try and take his mind off his torment.

"– In other news today archaeologists believe that they have found evidence of a previously undiscovered tomb tucked against the cliff-side in the Valley of the Kings. There is even speculation that this tomb may belong to the Nameless Pharaoh that, as legend would have it, saved the world from certain destruction 3000 years ago –"

_Danger!_

Yugi's hair stood up on end as he jerked his head back in fright. The hissed voice had sounded so real, so near. He shot up out of the chair instantly, searching franticly for the owner of that eerie voice that he had heard in the completely vacant room. That voice had sounded so real. But there was no one there.

In fact, there was no one else in the quaint little two bedroom house that he had been renting for the past couple of months. By the time he had finished scouring every inch of the place for an intruder – and finding none – the anchor woman on the television had gone on to different, and less exciting, topics and his heart had slowed to a more acceptable rhythm. For a moment he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Yugi pondered the coincidence of having that particular tomb being discovered before glancing at the clock. It was time to get ready if he intended to go to class, once again rethinking skipping out. He flipped the television off, shakily making his way out of the tiny room and into the even tinier bathroom. He tripped the light switch and flinched at the ghostly-pale figure that stared back at him from the hazy mirror over the sink.

When was the last time he'd had the presence of mind to clean?

His reflection looked horrible, that fact refused to remain hidden by the haze distorting the mirror. Enormous bags circled underneath blank, defeated amethyst eyes, his complexion bordering on a pasty white with the exception of the newly forming bruise where he had banged his head against the desk.

The blonde bangs that hung into his slightly child-like face were split and dry. The rest of his hair, which probably would have stood straight up had he the time – and the desire to actually care for it – drooped in black swirls around the nape of his neck ending in faded reddish highlights.

He sure as hell didn't look like a best-selling author. In fact he looked more like a vagabond. Small wonder no one liked him, he was such a freak. If only Ryou was here, maybe…Abruptly he turned on the faucet and splashed his face with the cold water. Was there anything that could take this pain away? Even for a moment?

Yet another tear slipped down his cheeks to mingle with the water and he let it go for the time being. If only he could change the past. If only he had said something, done something different, or maybe not said anything at all. But would it have changed anything? Anything at all?

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Unknown to the petite youth he was being observed, his pain and turmoil clear as day to the one who watched over him from afar. And she was distinctly unhappy with what she was seeing. She brushed a tear of her own away and murmured a brief, calming prayer into the still waters of the viewing pool.

"I knew I would find you here…" A commanding voice echoed around the cavern. "Isis, why is it that I always find you here brooding over the pool? What's done is done. There is nothing you can do now."

"I was just checking on the young one…" The lady addressed glanced over at the shimmering brightness that heralded the appearance of another of her kind with a solemn smile on her face. "Do you not realize that in each lifetime they seek out each others' company and stay together until they are forcefully separated? One has already fallen and I do not feel his presence in the afterlife this time. Soon he too shall follow in the others footsteps. The evil of the past is awakening and I fear there will be no one with the power to stop it this time."

The brightness shimmered closer to the pool, for the first time actually peering into the reflection of the sobbing teen. "It appears that he shall…"

With that useless comment the lady lost her temper, rounding on the other being with an unmistakable snarl. "Of all the…! What will it take for you to admit that we were mistaken? This is our fault! Our fault! We should have interfered before it got to that point! He was one of us! They both were. Or have you forgotten that fact."

"We are gods! We do not make mistakes." The other being snapped loftily. "You dare accuse me of forgetting who they truly are? They both chose their path millennia ago…and it wasn't here with us. Their need to walk the earth is the source of this whole mess. Apophis would not have dared approach either of them if they had stayed where they belonged. He is not strong enough!"

Isis pushed away from her uncomfortable perch beside the pool, wandering around the cavern, her gaze lighting on the many stalactite formations, anywhere but on the being who had spoken so harshly of her only son, as she wrapped her arms around her form.

She understood her elder's obvious reluctance to contend with this matter but this was so unfair to those who were caught up in this catastrophe not of their making. And if her vision of the future came about it would be more than just her child and his rival that suffered. The evil from their past was about to make its presence known again.

But until Re admitted to their blunder there was nothing she or the others could do. He was their leader, the one they looked up to for advice and difficult decisions. If he had a problem with what she wanted to accomplish then there was a good chance that The Creator would deny her what she sought without even hearing her out. They needed to present a united front before requesting the almost impossible.

"Everybody makes mistakes. Even the gods." Isis replied softly. "Everybody."

"If we were in the wrong by staying out of it, do you not think that Ptah would have brought it to our attention at the time of our error?" Re countered with a casual wave of his arm.

"Bah" Isis dismissed irately. "He is the Creator. He needs not voice his opinion on any of our doings. If we are wrong he would expect that we right the situation, but he will not interfere. You, of all beings, know this. You are often guilty of using the same tactic." She turned to face the other being, but found his attention immersed in the viewing pool for the first time ever.

"He never chastised Horus for his need to walk among the people, nor Set…no matter what his thoughts." She whispered gently.

Re blinked away his heavy thoughts. Isis had spoken so softly that he had nearly missed her comments in his distraction. The sight of one of their own in such a sorry state was startling and the god was almost stricken speechless. He had never looked directly into the pool, preferring to leave his fallen friend to his fate without looking back. But this time he had caught just the slightest glance of what was left of his old ally, and found himself unable to look away from the pitiful sight.

Eventually Re found his voice. He nodded his acknowledgment, deeply disturbed with the thought of what his disregard of the entire situation had wrought. "…Thus I do know."

"…Please, my lord. The human realm needs their savior. I cannot foresee the outcome of this fight as anything short of a catastrophe without his aid…without their aid." Isis' words trailed off as she perched at the edge of the pool, awaiting her friend's decision after presenting her case. "There are no options left…"

"It is a pity that he split his soul and allowed one half to be destroyed Isis, but it is not our world any longer. We are merely bystanders. As for Set…I refuse to make any concessions on his behalf. If it were not for his direct involvement this would have never come about in the first place. Even if he did recant his ways towards the end."

"But if you could…" The lady's tearful plea was more than Re could stand.

The luminous being sighed deeply. They had had this discussion many times over the millennia and each time he wondered if they had done the human realm a grave injustice by refusing to interfere on their behalf. "Very well, I shall request an audience with the Christian and Muslim gods. If…and I say IF they agree, I shall request an audience with Ptah. You know how much I hate this. This is their time to shine."

"It would mean the world to me. I can see the young ones' futures with their other halves. It would mean a great many changes, but none that would affect the gods' rule." Isis bowed graciously. "I wish for my child to return…even if only in pieces…

"I will do what I can. But I will not promise you what you desire. It is not for me to decide."

With a flare of brightness the being was gone from the room, leaving the other to contemplate the fates of her two fallen companions were the others agreeable to her plan. "I do hope they take kindly to this idea."

The lady stood as she glanced around the desolate cavern. For so many years she and others of her kind had been left, forgotten. Their world shattered by the evil that had tried to make its way into the human realm. And that evil had left its taint on mankind. If only they were allowed to undo the one mistake that had been theirs to make – to let one half of the Nameless Pharaoh be completely and utterly destroyed.

It had been the down fall of their race.

Perhaps they would have the chance to rectify the situation. All she could do now was hope and pray.


	2. Chapter 2

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

_So how's our favorite Pharaoh doing?" Pale, almost ghostly hands wrapped around his neck as Ryou peered over his shoulder._

_Yugi knew he was taking a rather large chance at getting his friend into trouble by meeting him at the local library. But he couldn't help it. Ryou was the only one who understood. The only one who cared. He couldn't bear to be separated from him with so much riding on the court hearing that was coming up in two days._

_He grinned at the white-haired teen's exuberance. "You just want to know what your favorite thief is up to, don't you?"_

"_Yeah." A chuckle. "C'mon man, give me a break. It's not every day that I get a character based off my life. So sue me if I'm a little excited." Ryou's hands disappeared from his shoulders and an instant later the white-haired teen flopped into a comfortable chair beside him._

"_Okay, okay…right now he's just being his old smart-ass self. But he did manage to sneak past the guards and steal one of the priests' charms before running head-first into the Pharaoh himself."_

_Ryou raised a delicate brow. "Oh…and how well did that meeting go?"_

_He smirked. "How do you think it went?"_

"_I think they tried to kill each other and neither of them succeeded or this book wouldn't end anything like the true to life version. Can't you control your character a little more? He's so egotistical it isn't even funny! And don't laugh – I read that last chapter right after you wrote it. You know what I'm talking about."_

"_Egotistical? Ha! I would have to say that your thief is the one with the arrogance. He's the one sneaking into the middle of a heavily guarded palace with no plans other than to wreak havoc and disappear. What, does he have a death wish or something?" He retorted._

_Ryou sat back, pursing his lips. "Yeah, I guess he does. I can't help but think that maybe, if their beginnings were just the slightest bit different, that they might have ended up as friends. Maybe it's just my wishful thinking, or something."_

_The white-haired teen's expression became serious. "Promise me you'll publish this story. Something about it…I dunno, it just…maybe it's the way you tell it…but it's so familiar…just promise me you'll tell the whole story. You know, in case something happens…" Ryou shrugged with a blush, not understanding where the thought came from. "Just make something of yourself, go to college, tell these bastards to fuck off! You deserve it." He finished lamely, attempting to cover up his confused emotions._

"_Promise." Yugi held out a pinky._

All their plans, all their dreams. Gone. But he would keep that promise. And the others as well.

Hastily Yugi wiped the moisture from his eyes. Why couldn't there have been an alternative? Maybe somewhere between being a tennis ball volleyed back and forth among the different foster cares and being isolated in this lonely little house with absolutely no one but himself for company. Why couldn't the judge have let him take Ryou with him when he left?

If just one person had thought to ask him what he wanted, or for that matter, what Ryou wanted. If just one person had cared enough. But no, life wasn't like that. And he was angry and bitter, and it sucked.

What he wanted? What did he want? Yugi resentfully pondered the question that had all but consumed his sanity over the past couple of days. What he wanted was simple. He wanted to tell his parents not to go on that last dig in the Valley of the Kings.

Bittersweet memories suddenly flooded his brain. Hazy mental pictures of happy times sitting around a fire as an ancient, white-haired story-teller brought some of the most interesting legends to life with words and gestures. Memories of smiling faces and good morning kisses before his parents would leave him in the care of the village elders, to learn of their history and folklore as they explored the tombs and caves around the villages.

Memories of a kind old man with faded amethyst eyes who grinned at his attempts to mimic those story tellers with words that he barely understood himself. Memories of knowing who he was and what he liked to do. Another tear escaped its confines to roll casually down his face.

But that time of happiness was long gone, brought about by a plane crash that killed both of his parents while he was stuck in school in America, living with a close friend of his father who was asked to watch over him. His grandfather was never found. And many assumed the old man was dead as well. Unfortunately, since his father's friend was a bachelor he was seen as unfit in the eyes of the court to adopt a child of eleven.

Ever since his first night stuck in a strange house with a bunch of strange people, with no one to turn to other than himself he began to write tales of his own, pouring his knowledge of foreign legend and a little imagination into the words he wrote.

And as he wrote about some of the lesser known legends he researched the never forgotten Pharaoh, searching out every written word, reliving every passed down tale of the ill-fated royal, patching together bits and pieces of what he thought might have been the real story of a young man's life by dissecting every bit of information on the subject.

He wanted to tell his grandfather he was sorry for breaking the vase when he was running through his apartment when he was eight. He wanted to thank his father's friend for trying to adopt him.

Most of all he wanted to undo the past eight years of his life. To never know the insecurities of being moved from house to house in search of a family with enough space to accommodate just one more foster child. But if he couldn't have any of those wishes, then he at least wanted to be able to tell Ryou that he would come back for him. That he would fight for him.

But he never had the chance. The gentle white haired teen that he had come to know quite well over the past year and a half had hung himself in the basement of the foster care that they had both been sent to not even a day after the judge's decision.

Three days ago. So unfair! Why Ryou?

He couldn't condemn his friend for leaving him here by himself. He completely understood Ryou's need to be free of it all. That was the worst part. He knew the exact reasons why his quiet, shy friend climbed up on the chair and wrapped the rope around the heating duct.

He understood why Ryou pushed the chair over after he wound the rope around his neck. They were the same reasons he had considered the exact same way out time and time again.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Isis traced the outline of the cherished face, her hand never quite touching the calm waters of the pool. What was taking them so long? Re's conferences never lasted more than a couple of hours at the most. He was quite probably the most tight-lipped individual she had ever come across. Was he not able to convince the others that this was a matter of utmost importance?

She stood and paced the cavern, her eyes skating over the long since memorized nooks and crannies that shaped this desolate place where she and the other gods came to look in on the human realm. She knew that what she was asking verged on the impossible, but they had to try. They had to…

A flash of light illuminated the torch lit cavern and she braced herself for defeat as she turned to hear what her superior had to say.

"I have spoken with the ruling gods. Each has agreed to your request…including Ptah"

Her eyes widened. "…So this means…?"

"You may alter _his_ past. But only his, not Set's…at least not intentionally. Many of the others feel he is deserving of his fate, as do I…but the way I see it, their fates are intertwined…"

Isis blinked. Was Re saying what she thought he was? To interfere in ones, but not the other's…not _intentionally_…He was giving her complete permission! With a large grin plastered on her face, the normally stoic goddess launched herself at a surprised Re.

"Oh thank you! You have no idea what this means!"

"I was not finished." Re reprimanded her even as he patted her back. "What happened before still needs to be. They will still need to be two halves instead of a whole. It is up to you how you accomplish that without shredding part of his soul."

Isis grinned widely. "I have just the incentive for this situation. If you would allow me a little creative license –"

"You may choose the method of interference. But you cannot alert the demon to your plan. As far as he is to know his task is to face the same situation that he had before. We shall all lend you the power to make sure this remains so."

"I really appreciate…" Isis bowed formally.

"There is no time for prevarication, my dear. I think your charge is about to do something irrevocable!" Re's words struck a chord of fear in the Goddess' heart and she turned towards the pool, intent on stopping time if need be to prevent the young one from doing something foolish…

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Amethyst eyes once again sought out the clock, widening when their owner realized what the time was. He couldn't afford another black mark after his name – regardless of the fact that he really didn't want to go to this class. And he was off, snatching up his coat and his backpack, flying out the door and down the stairs drying his tears as he ran.

He raced down the street and around the corner, stopping only to check once both ways before crossing the busy intersection. Finding a lull in the traffic he scooted across on the 'do not walk' signal and sprinted through the parking lot of the university's Arthur Seelye memorial building, which housed several of his classes.

Throwing open the heavy double doors he bolted down the hall and skidded to a stop just inside the classroom, soaking wet and shivering from more than the cold alone. It was time to push the past back to, well, to the past. He needed to concentrate on his pledge to Ryou. If he dwelled on the futility of it all he would be the next person on the coroner's table, and their story would never be told.

"So nice of you to join us Mr. Mutou. If you would be so kind as to hand in your assignment from last week…" The elderly teacher glared over the top of his glasses at him.

Yugi cringed mentally as he rifled through his backpack with shaky hands. Damn. He had only rewritten it a dozen times before concentrating on the book his publishing company was expecting in the next couple of months. Would it be good enough for _Mr. Perfect_? Or would it be another failing grade just for a couple of grammatical errors?

If Yugi was honest with himself he would realize that he hadn't exactly put his heart into the paper. That had already been lost to the trilogy that he was in the middle of publishing and if not that, then lost in the memories that he was still in danger of drowning in.

He handed over the paper with trembling hands.

"Thank you. Now you may take your seat. And I expect you to be on time Thursday."

He nodded, unspeaking and moved to the back of the class, settling in for what would probably be one of the most boring hours of his life. Within minutes sleep deprivation set in to the monotone sounds of the lecture in progress, and before he knew it the class was finished…

Yugi awoke to the sounds of chairs scraping the floor as the rest of the students filed out of the room. Hastily he stuffed his books into his backpack, wanting to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

"Mr. Mutou, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Yugi froze in the middle of rearranging his backpack, amethyst eyes resembling a deer in the headlights. This he did not need.

"Y-yeah…s-sure." _Damn. Could anything else possibly go wrong today?_

Gathering his belongings he plodded to the front of the room with all the willingness of a prisoner marching to his execution. Standing in front of the desk, Professor Elder waited patiently, holding a piece of paper in his hands. More than likely it was his – and more than likely not good enough. Yugi sighed. He stopped at the side of the desk, head bowed, waiting to be told that he was no longer able to take the class.

"Yugi, may I be frank?"

Yugi nodded miserably. _Please, feel free. Tell me I'm a fuck-off and you don't want to spend any more time trying to teach someone who can't learn._

"This is not the type of work I expect from you. I expect better." Elder waved the papers around in his hand. "Much better. Someone who is able to come up with such an enthralling novel as you did is definitely able to piece together something better than this trash-"

Yugi's head shot up in complete shock, eyeing the old man as if he had grown a second head.

"-Yes, I know it was you. You accidentally left me a couple of pages from your book when you turned in your pre-class assignment. Destiny Preordained is a brilliant piece of work. I just don't understand why you can't seem to bring the same brilliance to your class-work. Is something wrong? Are you having personal issues that would prevent…?"

Yugi closed his eyes, feeling the tears as they worked their way past his eyelids, the pressure inside his chest almost too much to bear. Personal issues?

…"_I'm sorry Mr. Mutou, although I believe whole heartedly that you can care for yourself, you are not capable of caring for another teen. It is just not possible at this moment. I'm going to have to deny your request."_

_The gavel sounded heavily around the courtroom. Yugi glanced back to see how his friend was taking the devastating news. Ryou's chocolate colored eyes were shining with suppressed tears. Yugi opened his mouth to say something. Anything. But before he could utter a single word, the other teen's legal foster parents shepherded him into the isle and out of the room._

_Amethyst eyes dropped to the floor in absolute defeat…_

That was the last time he had seen his friend alive. And it was tearing him apart. He couldn't take it anymore! Promise or no promise he couldn't do this! Tears fell from his eyes and the backpack hit the floor as the diminutive teen tore off out of the classroom, oblivious to the elderly man's cries for him to return.

Yugi shot out of the building and across the parking lot, his lungs burning as the tears slipped from his eyes. He skirted a car that was pulling out of its spot and ran on across the grass beside the walkway. He couldn't do this. He couldn't live like this. On he ran, oblivious to the cars that traveled that stretch of road well in excess of the posted 35mph.

Without a thought Yugi bolted out into the street…

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Sharp, intensely focused scarlet eyes took stock of the surrounding scenery, his footsteps light and soundless in the silent morn as he stalked his prey. Pharaoh Atemu, son of Akhnumkhanan, Beloved of Re, The Morning and Evening Star, Ruler of the Two Lands, The Living Horus – and so many other titles that half the time the seventeen year old monarch forgot what they were – had finally found the time to do something that he enjoyed.

His expression changed to one of distaste as he recalled all tasks that he should have endeavored to complete on this beautiful day. But Re had blessed them with the perfect weather for a hunt and that was what he planned on doing, regardless of his council's unwanted opinions. He couldn't stand another minute listening to their constant demands. Even he deserved a day off.

He notched an arrow, readying his bow just in case he were to come across a duck, or another family of quails that always hid in the underbrush of the marshy area. They already had enough for a grand feast, but he didn't want to go back yet. Not yet.

Out here he could forget. Forget who he was supposed to be – who he should have been, and what people wanted from him. Here he could finally be who he really was. He could believe for a moment that he was still living in the quaint little village that he grew up in, believe that his mother still breathed, still lived.

For a moment he considered what would happen should he fail to return to the palace. It wasn't like anyone of consequence would actually miss him. In fact he knew of at least two or three council members who would most certainly rejoice in his disappearance. As for the rest of them…Well, most of his nobles figured him to be an impostor, a fraud, anyways, so he doubted they would care either way. And he would be all the happier if he never had to set foot…

_CRACK!_

Atemu cringed at the obnoxiously loud noise that had disrupted his train of thought, his slanted, kohl-lined eyes pinning the culprit in his place with a well-aimed glare.

"S-sorry your Highness…it-it won't happen again…" Came the whispered response to his fiery glare.

If it had been anyone other than…Atemu sighed and shook it off, readying his bow again, edging around some of the reeds and willows, knowing full well that his favorite guard had already managed to alert any intelligent wildlife in the area to the presence of a predator. Damn it, he wasn't ready to return! If it were up to him he would never go back.

Just the thought of never having to deal with any of those people again would be peace enough for him. Throughout most of his life at the palace he had been told how to act, what to say – and in what tone to say it – whom he may associate with, how to eat, drink, bathe, breathe. What difference did it matter if he had been brought up differently than what they deemed acceptable?

A thrashing sounded from the other side of the dense foliage, nearer towards the muddy waters, followed by the sounds of squawking, shaking the young royal into immediate awareness and Atemu raised the bow a little higher, aiming at where he thought his prey would emerge from its cover. Perhaps Jonoh didn't scare off _every_ animal; there were always those with very little higher brain function.

He drew back his bow as the sounds of flapping caught his ears and just as he was about to let the arrow fly, a terrified scream sounded from the other side of the brush. The shot flew wide right of the intended target as the Pharaoh bolted in the direction of the noise, fearing that some child had gotten caught by one of the many predators known to be in the area, his guards hot on his heels.

"Pr-aA!"

Atemu tore through the underbrush, as yet another terrified shriek cut through the silence, and he changed direction again, searching for the source of the cries even as he reached to withdraw the deadly looking dagger from the sheathe tied around his waist. He parted brush in front of him with his bow just as a child of no more than twelve stumbled into the clearing, dropping to the ground nearly at his feet. Heart pounding against his chest, the young Pharaoh reached for the boy.

"Pr-aA! Don't touch him! He could be cursed!" A guard shouted as the group stampeded into the clearing, surrounding their god incarnate and shielding him from danger.

But Atemu wasn't listening.

Atemu lifted the child into his arms and was rewarded with a soft groan and a slight opening of what had to be the most exotic shade of blue eyes he had ever seen. They were so true they were almost amethyst in color. But just as suddenly, those gorgeous eyes closed as the boy took a shuddering breath and Atemu was left wondering just how injured the child was.

The young Pharaoh looked over the small boy in his arms, pulling at the vibrantly colored cloth that covered his body. The strange clothing was torn and ripped in places, dried blood on the sleeves and pants. The child had visible bruises on his arms and chest but no obvious cuts or abrasions. Whatever happened to the unconscious youth in his arms, it was a complete mystery to him. It looked as though he might have been trampled by a chariot, yet there was no place for miles suitable for ones use.

But what he did see appealed to him greatly. This youth had the mark of great beauty, even though it did look as if he had gone through a rough patch. Soft, wildly colored hair, not unlike the Pharaoh's tricolored locks swirled around a face that was beautiful beyond compare. Not even the dark circles detracted from the sheer perfection of the boy's pale skin. His eyes were drawn to the boy's petal soft lips and he licked his lips in anticipation of tasting…

"Pr-aA!"

Atemu snapped from his admiration, realizing that his guards were trying desperately to attract his attention without getting right in his face. A grimace settled over his exotic features when he realized that they had, yet again, found fault with his actions.

"Yes?" A delicate eyebrow rose.

"It isn't right…he could be cursed…it could be a trap!" The head of the guards attempted to voice his objection without having caught his breath.

"Relax Jonoh, I am perfectly fine." Atemu sighed as he gathered the child to him and stood. "It is time to return. This boy needs to be seen to by the healers."

Jonoh looked for a moment as though he would argue, but the rest of the guards bowed low. Finally the head guard sighed and bowed his head along with the others. "Yes pr-aA."

Atemu nodded silently and shouldered his way through the group without another comment. He led the entourage back to where they had left the horses, handing the boy over to Jonoh briefly so he could mount. And then they were off.

The fast paced ride back to the city was unusually silent considering how well the hunt had gone. Most of the men were wary of the boy's addition to their group, a few even going so far as to think it was a bad omen. And Atemu, he was considering how best to explain the boy's presence to those he had left at the palace.

Perhaps he wouldn't explain anything at all. He shouldn't have any need to. He was considered a god. Or at least that was what they had tried to drill into his head for the past seven years or so. But being as he had grown up in different circumstances than what was expected of the crown prince, he knew that he would be called on the carpet by at least one or two of his council for his actions today.

As they made their way through the city surrounding the palace, their presence caused quite a stir. People everywhere stopped, stared for a moment and then prostrated themselves before their group as they realized who was riding in their midst. Normally Atemu would acknowledge the villagers actions, but today he was entirely too wrapped up in the unconscious child lying in his arms. So many questions. And no one to give him any answers.

He prayed to the gods that this gorgeous creature would find the will to live – if only for him to see those glorious eyes once more. Such an exotic shade of blue, a color so rarely seen.

As they drew nearer to the palace Atemu could clearly see that someone had informed his priests of his imminent return. All six of them had lined up on the front steps leading to the entrance hall, along with his chief advisor Siamun, who seemed to have a rather odd, almost melancholy expression on his face, which was so out of character for the elder man that Atemu couldn't help but groan inwardly at the sight.

What, exactly, had gone so wrong in his absence that required him to be met thusly?

When the group reached the bottom of the stairs he gracefully dismounted and handed the reigns over to his stable boy, careful not to jostle the child in his arms. He would see to the boy first, and then he would deal with whatever catastrophe had occurred during his absence.

All six priests eyed him warily as he approached, but he bypassed both Seth and Mahaad without a word, heading directly for Isis. The lady dropped to her knees as he reached her side.

"You may rise." He truly hated formality and yet most of his life was nothing but.

"I have prepared a room for our guest pr-aA. He shall be well cared for."

Atemu smirked. Smart lady. She must have seen the boy he cradled in his arms and guessed what his intentions were. That or she had foreseen this in one of her visions. Either way at least one of his priests gave a care for his personal needs.

As she rose two of her healers came out of the palace intending on taking the boy from his arms but he curtly shrugged them off. "Lead the way."

Isis nodded, unsurprised. But his reaction raised a couple of eyebrows as Akhenaten and Siamun gaped at his refusal to hand over his burden. Oh well, he need not explain his actions to either of them at the moment. There would be time enough for that later – or perhaps it was time for him to assert a little of his authority over them. Was he not the Pharaoh?

After thoroughly ignoring his priests, Atemu followed the priestess deep into the many corridors of the palace. Having spent nearly half of his life roaming the halls of the imposing mud-brick structure he knew most of the secret passageways and shortcuts, but Isis had a particular way of dealing with those who entered her domain and so he decided it would be in the child's best interest if he let her guide the way. If he wanted to see the child's eyes open it would be wise of him not to irritate the only person who would willingly help.

Finally, after many long minutes of hearing only their footsteps upon the polished stone floor Isis slid aside a door that led to the healing ward. From there she directed him into another, inner chamber that held a breathtaking view of the royal courtyard. Here she bade him place the child on a raised mat set up in the corner of the room.

Scarlet-colored eyes questioned her silently as she moved aside to allow her elder healers at the unconscious boy. At the unspoken question she turned to face her young regent. "This child is very important. His presence has been foretold in the scriptures of the past."

"This is a good sign…or no?"

Isis flitted silently around the room, gathering her supplies. When she refused to elaborate Atemu crossed his arms over his chest moodily, raising an eyebrow. With a murmur of apology Isis shooed him from the room, mumbling something about visions and destruction that he was unable to catch more than a word or two of. Figures.

He sighed deeply as he found himself back out in the torch-lit corridor. But he wasn't alone. "What is it you need that would have you stalking me throughout the palace?"

"What were you thinking?" Akhenaten started in immediately. "You know better than to handle a strange person, let alone welcome them into the palace. You could have brought a curse on all of us!"

Atemu grimaced as he glared at the older man from beneath his lashes. It was apparent that they were going to have to have another one of _those _discussions. Lately, every time they spoke to each other their conversations degenerated into something more of sparring matches with each side taking pot shots at the other. Not so much with Siamun, whom he had come to look upon as a grandfather figure rather than an advisor, as with Akhenaten. The man refused to acknowledge his place.

And although Atemu was brought up to be respectful of his elders, it was becoming harder and harder to keep the peace between him and his priests. The tall, lanky priest had yet to endear himself to the young Pharaoh and the older the teen ruler got, the less he felt like remaining someone else's puppet. Thus resulting in their often loud and sarcastic altercations.

Besides, after they had so brutally torn him from everything that he had ever known and forced him into this position not of his liking, Atemu was well past the point of wanting to cater to the older man's whims for the sake of keeping peace inside of the palace. For his father and Siamun he might have tried. Akhenaten, though, was a different story.

"Now Akhenaten…pr-aA may have had a good reason to do as he did. In any case, we are here for another matter entirely." Saimun rebuffed the taller priest.

"We will discuss that when we are finished –" Akhenaten began snidely.

"Enough!" Atemu snarled, drawing himself up to his full height, his head high as he glared at the towering priest. It was time for him to assert his authority over this man, who had for so long controlled his life due to circumstances that were beyond his control. "I will have no more of your questioning my decisions!" He lowered his voice a notch out of respect for his elder advisor's shocked look. "I understand why my father has allowed you to aid me as co-ruler until I was of age. But it ends here. You have over-stepped your boundaries time and time again. I will have no more of this nonsense. I am pr-aA! Not you. Me."

At the nasty tone of his voice Akhenaten backed up a step. For a moment it looked as though the priest would argue. But then the tall man bowed low, a smirk gracing his features. "Technically you are nephew, but your true coronation will not be forthcoming until you have completed the coming of age ritual. Yes, you know what I am referring to…however, since we now have the perfect candidate for the ceremony I shall leave you to your fate."

With that the tall man walked briskly from the scene, a vicious chuckle lingering behind him. Atemu slapped a hand to his forehead in irritation. Shit! He had just condemned the unconscious child in Isis' room to a fate he wouldn't wish on the worst of his enemies. A groan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes and leaned back against the door, pounding his head against it twice for good measure.

"Pr-aA. Your father's tomb has been defiled. It was discovered when we sent Seth out with our weekly offering –"

"What?" Atemu's ruby eyes widened as he remembered that the elderly advisor had news to impart. He had nearly forgotten that Siamun was there as silent as the older man had been throughout his tirade.

"– we were able to salvage most of the possessions that he will need for the afterlife. Seth is sorting out his scrolls in the library. He will inform us of what is missing when that task is finished."

The young Pharaoh could have torn his hair out in frustration. There was only one person brave – or stupid – enough to ignore the warnings on that tomb. Bakura! Damn it! His father's resting place was supposed to have been completely secure. There were things in there that were better off buried beneath the sands, as the former Pharaoh had requested.

"Gather my guards. I want to survey the damage first hand. We will ride as Re's journey begins."

Siamun nodded before scurrying off to ready the soldiers for their journey. And Atemu went back to banging his head against the wall. What a day this was turning out to be!

~ o ~ O ~ o ~


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you and welcome to a third chapter to a story that I didn't believe would ever see the light of day again. The translations and those responsible for them are at the bottom of the chapter. A huge! Thank you goes out to Roweena5000 translating and to Shamise for beta work. Thanks guys

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Isis gazed at the petite youth laid out on the cot. So far everything was going according to her plan. She had clearly heard the argument in the outer hall. A mischievous smile graced her features as she pictured the look on Atemu's face when Akhenaten informed him of his plan. The Pharaoh would get over his objections; she would make certain that it was so.

The priestess began to hum a soothing tune as she checked over her patient, peeling off the brightly colored garments to assess the damage that was done, to wrap him carefully in a light sheet. She had sent the healers from the room as soon as the argument between Akhenaten and Atemu began, wanting to listen in without being disrupted.

The young one would be fine. She was sure of it. Between her and her superior they had pulled off the switch with little damage done. It was fortunate for her though that Re had been paying attention at the time or all her planning would have been for naught.

Now she only needed to nudge the Pharaoh in the right direction, if she even needed to do that. Isis could tell that her sovereign was already intrigued with his find, just as she had expected him to be. Even though Atemu was still a complete soul there was still a part of him the recognized and responded to the little one with his missing piece. She would just have to further that bonding in the scant amount of time that they had left.

But it was so hard to stand back and watch her son as he floundered through this mortal life, knowing what would happen to him and understanding that he would never know who she really was, who he was until far in the future. But as Re had decreed, what happened the first time still needed to stand. She couldn't alter the future that extensively for the repercussions would be vast and they would not know until far too late if their enemy, Apophis, managed to find another entry into the mortal realm

It was for this reason, and this reason only, that she staid her hand from forcing Horus to recognize who he truly was. As much as she wanted to comfort him and take over the position of the mother he had lost so early in his mortal life, she had been unable to devise a way that would leave the mortal realm in relatively the same state that it was before they interfered.

"Hello beautiful lady."

Isis started physically at the recognized voice; a hand to her chest as she turned to greet her cherished other. "Osiris...hello. You startled me."

"You think so little of me that I would stay away while you are fighting for our son's life?" Shadi approached his wife of many millenia with an unrepentant grin, bowing low to the floor before her. "It is Shadi, by the way. You should know me by now not to stay away when it comes to my family."

Isis grinned back. "Shadi then. Hello"

Isis had caught small glimpses of her husband a couple of times over the past month, having found out about his recent application to the palace priesthood through Siamun, who approved whole-heartedly. She really wasn't all that surprised that he managed to convince Re to help her watch over their son.

But she had thought that he would keep his distance from her in order to further the appearance that he was nothing more than a desert wanderer who happened to have an uncanny ability to see the future and the need to be of service to his country. So his appearance in her realm of the palace caught her off guard, and she felt a pang of longing for their peaceful home in the after world.

"As far as anyone else is to know, I am here to catch a glimpse of the person who has the entire palace in an uproar." Shadi shrugged offhandedly. "But my true mission was to lay your mind to rest concerning the scrolls that Priest Seth has uncovered –"

"– oh! The scrolls!" Isis put a hand to her mouth, horrified at her lapse. In her eavesdropping she had overheard Siamun speaking with Atemu about the break in at his mortal father's tomb. She should have been dealing with that rather than fussing over her charge. He was fine, an oversight like that was not.

Shadi laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Relax my pretty lady; I have already altered the spell. Everything is in readiness for the next step of your plan. You do have a plan, am I correct?"

Isis nodded distractedly. Thank heavens Osiris had realized that she had so much on her mind and would not be able to tend to every detail. "I am attempting to keep this as simple as possible. It would not do to have so many small details rewriting the future of this realm. Set will call forth Aphop – ah, the demon known as Zorc, just as he did originally and Hor...ah...Atemu shall fall..."

"...As he did before." Shadi finished solemnly. "With a little luck we can turn this to their advantage." He raised an eyebrow. "But are you certain that you can handle two children? One of them seems enough trouble for me. Relax my beautiful one, we shall make this right. Apophis shall fall when all is said and done, then Ptah himself shall deal with him."

"I hope you are right." Isis smoothed a blonde lock from her patient's forehead as a distraction from the other's nearness. "The young one here is nearly beyond hope. He needs his other half to continue existing. And I want my baby...babies back where they belong when they are finished playing in this realm."

Shadi kissed her forehead tenderly, placing a gentle hand against the boy's face. "They shall be. They will have to face the fires of the underworld but together I am certain that they shall succeed and come out the stronger for their trials."

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Time had proven Isis' theories correct. In the three days since his return from his father's ravaged tomb Pharaoh Atemu had stopped by to visit no less than twice a day. Many times she had walked into the room only to find the young ruler in the process of reaching out to touch the unconscious boy, only to jerk his hand back at her entrance.

She, in turn, would feign ignorance of his actions and go about her duties as if his presence in her private chambers was nothing out of the ordinary.

Her heart longed to reach out and hold the young ruler to her breast, just as any other mother would, or at least warn him to flee now before it was too late. But to do that would mean risking her plans, the young one's entire existence and her dreams that once this was over her son – both halves of him – would know who she was without prompting. They needed to face these trials without her further interference.

With those thoughts weighing heavily on her mind, Isis went about her duties as head of the healing ward, attempting to ignore the presence behind her – both of them.

Atemu gave a soft sigh after nearly being caught by his priestess once again, pulling his hand back to his side. He was beginning to think it was a ruse between the two of them, one where he would pretend that he wasn't about to reach out and feel the softness of their young guest's skin and she would pretend that she hadn't seen his misconduct.

It was the same routine day in day out, he would come here to check on the boy's status before court and once again before he retired, feeling an inner need to make sure that what he had seen was indeed real and not a figment of his imagination. He needed to find a way to thwart Akhenaten's plans without arousing suspicion. He didn't want this beautiful being to be subjected to the humiliation and pain that was to be his coming of age ritual. He wouldn't willingly subject anyone to that.

His eyes wandered over the unconscious youth's bare skin, taking note of the healing bruises. The boy was a little on the skinny side but hopefully that would change once he woke up and they could give him the nourishment he needed. In his intense study of the other's sleep softened features Atemu missed the tiny hand that twitched at the boy's side.

Atemu's attention slipped towards the door as it slid open to admit another visitor to the healing ward, the lady crying as she cradled her burnt arm carefully to her chest. He nodded to Isis in the understanding that it was time for him to retreat and in doing so he missed the movement as the tiny hand twitched once again.

...Yugi felt like he was falling. His hands flailed out to catch whatever they could latch onto to stop his descent, but there was nothing within his reach. The scream that he longed to let loose stuck in his throat and he prepared himself for a painful ending to his forever lasing free fall.

A suctioning sound put pressure on his eardrums and they popped loudly as he gasped, his eyes flying open only to find himself in a strange room with massive pillars that held a strange pictorial writing. Neat rows of what looked to be clay pottery lined shelves along the walls which held the same style of writing as the pillars.

He blinked a couple of times to clear his eyesight, but the scenery did not change in the slightest, in fact becoming even more strange as he caught sight of its occupants. There were two women of what appeared to be mid-eastern descent, standing somewhat close to him, in long, hand-dyed gowns talking to one another as one rubbed something on the other's injured hand. As his mind processed the curious sight his eyes wandered and happened to touch on a third occupant in the room.

This third person was male from what Yugi could tell by the firm, bronze back and the slim, tapered hips. But he couldn't tell much more than that as the other's attention was taken up by the two women's actions. He figured whatever had landed him here in this strange room – with these strange people – must have damaged his hearing, for he couldn't make out a word of what the other three were saying, their words sounding garbled and unintelligible.

Everything sounded so wrong, looked so wrong, but Yugi couldn't figure for the life of him what was so wrong with this picture, until his eyes cut back to the stunning male figure before him, landing on something that would have been blatantly out of place in his society. The guy was wearing a skirt! And what appeared to be a literal ton of gold and jewels adorned his every limb. Without thinking Yugi gasped loudly, drawing all three occupants' attention directly to him.

The figure in front of him turned around and Yugi lost his ability to form thought. The man was breathtakingly gorgeous. Exotically slanted eyes of such an intense mahogany color that they appeared nearly scarlet in the light stared at him from beneath a fringe of black lashes so thick that they would have been better placed on the chick-flik actresses that he watched sometimes on the television.

He studied the majestic vision, taking note of the angular jaw, the full, cupid's-bow lips and the straight nose only for his eyes to land on the bejeweled, winged crown perched on his brow with a start. Oh shit! He was fucked! Hell, he was beyond fucked!

Yugi cringed. Wherever he was, whatever he had done to land himself in this position, he knew what that crown symbolized. But what did he do? The last thing he recalled was his professor's questions about his personal life. But what happened after that? Yugi wracked his brain for the answer, only for his jaw to drop as the other spoke out in a deep, commanding baritone.

"Isis... sw iw ii neh?"

Yugi's eyes widened to the point of nearly popping out of his head. Oh god, what language was that? He could recall some of the words from the many languages of his youth, but this wasn't one he recognized.

The words were spoken in a questioning tone and from what he could tell they were not directed towards him, but to one of the ladies in the room – the taller one if he wasn't mistaken, for she finished her perusal of the other lady's arm to turn and gape back at him, allowing the third person to take her leave unnoticed. She fired off a quick comment to the one who was studying him so intently.

"bw-ikr." And then the one with the crown turned his attention back onto him as well with a questioning frown. "Iri k rh -n md-t?"

"Uh..." Yugi licked his lips, sliding his sore body up the mat and away from the imposing figure's reach, fearful of the scrutiny he was receiving. "I-I can't understand you...please...I don't know what you're saying."

A look of understanding was passed between the two figures before the lady gathered the dirty supplies and made for the other side of the room. There she seemed to busy herself making something that Yugi couldn't see from his poor vantage point, but definitely smell, it was so strong.

Not long after she returned to the other figure's side, speaking so quickly that Yugi couldn't catch anything other than the soft inflection of her voice. She held out a bowl containing some of whatever she had made, mimicking a drinking motion with her hand before handing it over to him.

Yugi eyed the goblet distrustfully. "What do you want?"

"n db3-tn s-rwd. iti st." She replied softly.

He felt a feminine hand on his chin, forcing his eyes up to meet with hers. Gentle doe-like brown eyes met with his and Yugi understood that she meant him no harm. He nodded shakily, reaching for the bowl. The stuff smelled terrible, whatever it was. So he held his breath and downed it in one swallow, almost choking as it burned a fiery path down to his stomach. He gasped for breath, his eyes watering against the pain.

Before he could gather his wits another bowl was held out before him, this time by the figure with the crown and he was given no choice but to take it – either that or wear it. Then the crowned man began speaking with the woman, his tone gently chiding even as he urged Yugi to drink this bowl with a simple hand motion.

Yugi started to protest, but found himself stopped short by the other's unmistakable command.

"mr. iti st."

Against his better judgment Yugi took a small sip, finding to his relief that it was only water. He chugged the rest of it to quench the raging fire in his throat. When he was finished he handed the bowl back to the lady, who immediately took it back to the other side of the room, and turned his eyes to the person standing by his bedside.

His vision hazed over and he blinked once to clear it. But the action didn't help as the room began to spin before his eyes. Yugi lay back against his bed, closing his eyes against the dizziness. Then his body went limp as the potion worked its magic, carrying him off to a dreamless sleep.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Atemu's breath caught in his throat as he spied the other's amethyst eyes. The boy was awake! Atet's injury faded from his mind as he studied the boy who was staring at him with wide eyes. Without thought to his priestess's current dilemma he brought the others attention to the boy's wakefulness.

"Isis, he has come to."

She turned with a gasp, allowing her patient to leave now that her injury had been tended to. "Excellent." And she turned to the boy. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

"B-boku wa etoku arimasen...onegai...anata no kotoba etoku arimasen."

Disappointment clouded her eyes as she realized that she had again forgotten one of the intricacies of her plan. This would not do.

"What is he saying?" Atemu questioned.

Steeling herself for the lie Isis made her way to the other side of the room. "He is speaking gibberish, Per-Aa. I do not believe he has completely recovered from his trauma. Give me a moment and I'll mix up a potion to help him."

That answer seemed to satisfy Atemu and he went back to studying their guest while she mixed together a potion that would render the boy unconscious so that she could utter an incantation to his unconscious mind that would allow him to understand and speak their language. She berated herself for her oversight as she worked. Another flaw like this and she could kiss her son – both of them – goodbye.

"He needs to drink this." She announced as she carried a bowl full of liquid back toward their visitor.

Catching the boy's attention she pantomimed a drinking motion and held the first bowl out for him to take.

But the boy only shook his head and scooted back against his mat. "Anata no kiboo wa nan-ka?"

"Drink it." She put a gentle hand on his chin, looking deep into his eyes. Something in her voice or her expression had gotten through this time for the boy took her offering and downed in in one swallow. And then he began to gag at the fiery sensation. She quickly pushed the other bowl toward him, but he refused, thinking that he had been tricked the first time.

"Drink." Atemu commanded softly, taking the bowl from her hand and thrusting it at their guest.

It seemed as though the Pharaoh's command had done the trick for this time he grabbed the bowl and took a hesitant sip, finding that one more to his liking, drinking the entire thing. Not long after his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out on them again.

"Will he be alright?"

She turned to look Atemu in the eyes. "We can only hope, Per-Aa."

He stared at her for a moment before nodding. And then he took his leave. She climbed on top of her unconscious patient and murmured a few soft words to his subconscious. That should do it. He may, or may not retain the memory of the scene that had just taken place, but that was not her concern. Atemu's younger double needed to understand what was taking place in order to figure out his role in their lives.

Sparing one last glance at the youth on the mat she murmured a quick prayer to Re that what she was planning would work out as she had thought it to. And then she left for her duties to the court.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Translations go as follows from what I've been researching – however the AE is totally transliteration since not one of the sites I went to had the true translation. So if anyone has any sites for actual translation please let me know – I've been at this off and on for over a year.

Isis... sw iw ii neh: Isis, he has come to

bw-ikr: Excellent

Iri k rh -n md-t: Do you know my words

n db3-tn s-rwd. iti st: I need you to drink this

mr. iti st: Drink it

And Japanese translations are thanks to Roweena5000 (and Kirsten Icklish for a set that I seemed to have lost in the fanfiction PM purge ^^). Thank you so very much!

B-boku wa etoku arimasen...onegai...anata no kotoba etoku arimasen: I-I can't understand you...please...I don't know what you're saying.

Anata no kiboo wa nan-ka: What do you want


	4. Chapter 4

Yes, I am still working on this fic, as well as THaB, so you will be seeing chapters periodically. I am in serious need of a really good grammar nazi though, cause doing this on my own does not seem to be working. I cannot seem to let go of a chapter and be reassured that it was the best I could do.

On top of that I have broken my finger trying to open the car door – so since this is the last chap I have fully typed it may be a while. But anyways, here you go. Enjoy.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Yugi shivered despite the residual warmth in the air. It was getting dark out now, and the darker it got the colder it would become. This he knew from traveling around with his parents when he was young. He wasn't stupid; he knew enough by what he had seen in the room he had woke up in, and by the landscape that was visible through the bars of his prison now what kind of weather to expect. And now he knew what to expect of the people in this country.

Why couldn't he have stayed with the lady who had helped him when he woke up? She had seemed willing enough to answer his questions, not that he could have put them into words so soon. But it was not to be, for not long after he had found he was able to stand an old man had walked into the room, took one look at him and whisked him out of there before he even had a chance to thank the lady for looking after him.

The old man had dragged him through the decorated corridors by his hair, muttering under his breath every so often and shooting him nasty glares down the length of his nose. Yugi retained enough of what he overheard to be frightened by what was said and the tone it was said in. Per-Aa. Pharaoh. A term that hadn't been used in millennia. Where was he?

They hadn't paused on their trek through the building until the y reached the third floor, where the old man opened a random door, dragged him inside and threw him in what appeared to be a large wooden cage, the tops of the bars held together with some sort of leather banding. And here was where he had sat since that time, no one even glancing into the room to see if he was okay, or realizing that he was stuck in here at all.

Yugi tested one of the wooden bars on his prison again. Where was he? A glance around the large room which held his small cage told him that the dwelling's construction was comprised of mud brick. He had stayed in houses of this type of construction while he was on digs with his parents before. A pressure built up in his chest as he studied the confined space again, searching for a weakness. Where was he? Where was he? Where on earth was he?

Through the small window in the door beyond he could see that a lit torch provided the only light by which he could see, leaving most of the room to be devoured slowly by shadows of the coming night. An animal-headed statue stood guard at the door, giving him the shivers as it followed him with its eyes. He glared back at it. God that thing gave him the creeps.

And again the question passed across his mind. Where was he? Or maybe, more to the point – _when_ was he? Was that what he was thinking? His eyes widened. There was an eerie similarity between the things he had seen since he woke up, and the very artifacts that his parents had studied when he was younger. But that didn't make any sense. Did it?

Yugi circled around his small prison again; testing bars, checking for an inconsistency in their placing that would allow him to sneak through. When he was finished – the results not to his liking – he put a hand to his chin and studied the straw mat and the buckets off in the corner of the cage. He knew that one contained clear, sweet water, but the other one he didn't want to know what it was for.

There were primitive civilizations in all the remote corners of the world, and he knew that. But knowing this still didn't stop him from wondering how he had been able to read some of the hieroglyphs that were carved into the pillars in the room where he had woken up this morning. Knowing about primitive civilizations didn't keep him from recognizing the statue with the head of a cat and the body of a woman that stood in the far corner of that room, or the jackal-headed one that stared at him now.

And knowing didn't stop the image of the man with the crown (and the skirt) from flitting across his mind each time he decided to leave off with his questions. He could remember darting across the parking lot at his college, but that was where his memory ended, until he woke up in that room – with that guy hovering over him. Or maybe that was a dream.

Yugi shook his head. It had to have been a dream. It had to – he didn't understand a word that the guy, or the lady – he now recalled another figure in his dream, but was it the same woman who had tried to help him earlier? – said. But when he woke up for real he understood their words. What was going on?

Another mystery for him to puzzle over. Yugi sighed, flopping down on the rough straw. He didn't even have a blanket to cover up in. He glared at the room in general. Peachy. At the rate the warmth was being sucked out of the room tonight he'd be lucky to get any sleep – the questions circling his head notwithstanding. Resigning himself to a night of discomfort Yugi leaned back against the wall and contemplated his fate.

That day, the day that held his last memories of his world, he had been ready to die. To join Ryou in the afterlife, to give up. But now that he was here, and it truly looked like his wish would be granted as soon as his captors found what they needed to make it happen, he no longer wanted to leave this life. For the first time in a long time he wanted to live.

Closing his eyes, he gave his friend a silent apology. He didn't want to die, he was mistaken in thinking that he did. But would he be given a choice? It was clear that he wasn't going to be treated like a guest in this strange land – more like a criminal on death row. But what was his crime? He hadn't truly taken in too much of what the guy who was dragging him had said other than Per-Aa. That was where his thought process had broken up.

"But what do I do now?" He questioned aloud, tears starting to form at the edges of his vision.

He was more alone – if that was possible – than he had ever been before. Not only that, but everyone who looked at him did so with either pity or contempt. That much he caught as he was dragged through the halls. Well, everyone other than the lady who treated him when he woke up in that room. But she had done nothing to prevent the angry looking man from dragging him out of her sight.

"You do as the rest of us do – try to find a way to survive." A deep voice spoke to him from beyond the shadows of his prison.

Yugi gasped, flinching further against the wall behind him. "Who's there?" He called out when silence fell over the room again.

A sigh came from somewhere over near the balcony that he had noticed earlier while the sun was high. "It is only I. Relax; I am not here to harm you."

A robed, hooded figure strode into the room, hidden completely except for the bare toes peeking out of the bottom of the cloth. For some reason his presence did nothing to inspire Yugi's confidence and he slowly slid himself up the wall, wanting to disappear into it.

"Truly, little one, I am not here to harm you." The figure repeated with a chuckle. "I merely wish to offer you some sustenance. Isis tells me you have not eaten much since you awoke."

His hand, which had disappeared into the confines of his robe, reappeared with a large, juice-stained handkerchief. He held it out for Yugi's perusal. As he did so Yugi inched off the wall, stepping closer to examine the gift. Whatever was inside smelled wonderful. After a few moments' debate Yugi stepped up close enough, reaching a hand through the bar to take hold of it, wary of a trick.

The man deposited the heavy handkerchief in his hands, watching as he flopped to the floor to unwrap it. Yugi's mouth was watering by the time he got the knot out of the handkerchief to see the feast laid out before him. A few choice cuts of meat – a bird most likely – some dates and small bits of fruit, a handful of nuts, three large chunks of bread and a hunk of cheese were revealed when he lifted the corners away.

He lifted his head to say thank you to the stranger, only to see the shadows staring back at him. All at once he felt ashamed of himself. Since when had he become so guarded?

"Wait!" He called out to the darkness. "Don't go…please."

After a few moments silence he heard. "You wished to speak with me?" from the corner of the room.

His face heated up with the realization that the stranger had retired to the shadows to watch him, but he searched the darkness anyways for the man's form. "Yeah…I…if you…could you answer some questions for me…please."

A quiet sigh, and then the whisper of fabric was heard. "If such is what you desire than I shall do my best to answer your questions."

For some reason the husky quality of the stranger's voice, along with the words spoke sent a shiver up Yugi's spine. His eyes widened, what was that? But then it was gone and he shook his head to clear it. This person may be his only ally in this strange land. He just hoped he wouldn't alienate him.

The robed figure sat down on the other side of the bars cross-legged, pulling his cloak around him as Yugi got a glimpse of golden-colored bands on his ankles. Yugi gawked for a moment, and then shook his head. He did not see that…what were they? But his attention was redirected when the stranger spoke again.

"What is it you wish to know?"

"Oh, uh…thank you." He stumbled over his words. "I appreciate this. Uh…would you like some?" He held out a chunk of bread.

The stranger seemed to consider his offer for a moment, and then plucked the bread out of his hand hesitantly. "You do not have to. I brought this for you."

Yugi blinked at him. "Oh, no-no this is more than I can eat, I can share."

"Very well."

After a few minutes of tense silence Yugi got up the nerve to ask. "Uh…If you don't mind…where am I? Where are we?"

He almost wished he could see the face hidden in the shadows, for there was a wealth of meaning behind the man's silence, but finally he spoke. "We are in Khemet. You are…unfamiliar with our country?"

Khemet. Khemet. Where in the world had he heard that term before? Yugi wracked his brain for the answer, and then swallowed thickly when the answer came to him. Uh-oh…that was not good.

"Okay…uh…I guess I asked for that…" He mumbled, still trying to make sense of the answer given as he nibbled at the cheese. "Then…uh…what year is this?"

The robed stranger seemed amused by his questions, but why it seemed that way he couldn't quite put his finger on. But he answered anyway. "We are in the fifth year of the rule of Per-Aa Atemu, son of Ahknumkhanen."

Yugi's eyes widened. Oh god! But wait…that would mean…he swallowed the hunk of cheese that had become lead in his throat. No one counted years like that. Not since…reality slammed into him and he began to hyperventilate. This was all wrong, all of it. A hand touched his and he jumped to see that he had leaned into the bars for support and he was only inches from the other's hidden features.

Finally he gathered his nerves to ask one more question. "Where are…we now…what part…uh…what is this place?"

The hand that had covered his reached up to feel his forehead and he had to hold himself still to keep from cringing away. Only after the stranger was satisfied did he answer, "We are in the royal palace. On the floor above Per-Aa's sleeping chambers."

Yugi didn't know if the man thought he had revealed too much or if he was on a time limit, for he stood up suddenly and backed away into the shadows. "I must go. I shall return on the morrow."

And before Yugi could blink the man disappeared, but before he did that he shed his cloak in the darkness and threw it at the cage within Yugi's reach. Yugi stared at the place where he had last seen the kind stranger until he was shivering with cold. Only then did he remember the cloak and he pulled it into his cage, using it as a blanket. As he did so he wondered at the exotic cologne the man wore, that had embedded itself into the cloak. It smelled so good, of desert spices and incense.

And after a while, exhausted and sore Yugi drifted off to sleep to the fragrant smell of the gift he had been given.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Some hours after the moon had completed half of its cycle Atemu flipped, silently and gracefully over the side of a balcony, rappelling down the side of the building; hand over hand, until he reached the massive balcony that marked his private chambers. Once his feet were safely on the floor he tied off the end of the rope and maneuvered a tall potted plant over to cover the evidence of his nocturnal wanderings.

It would do no good for someone to discover that he had been out roaming the palace alone. Not so much that he feared a kidnapping were the wrong person to come across that information, so much as he feared that once again he would be found lacking for this inability to stay put and allow them to cage him up in his fancy prison. He stared at the ornate wrist bands that covered nearly to his elbows with a wry smirk – interesting that he even had the shackles to prove his servitude.

Truly his life was not much different than the boy he had brought back to the palace. Not much different at all. What matter was all the gold and power if his ideas were never heard? If he was not allowed to make choices of his own? Not that he'd had too much time to dwell on the ideas that he had. Between all the demands of the court, his advisors, the priests and priestesses he was kept pretty busy overseeing everyone else's problems.

And now he had the boy's fate to worry over too.

"I had sworn you were not out here when I checked earlier." The voice startled Atemu and he whipped around to confront Mahad with a wary look.

"You must not have searched hard enough," he responded evenly. "I have been occupying the same corner for nearly an hour."

Atemu nearly fidgeted when his priest glanced around to where the plant stood, focusing intently on what it might have been hiding. But after a moment Mahaad gave a noncommittal sound and turned back to him again holding out a small object.

"Not that you needed it but we have confirmation that it was, in fact, Bakura who destroyed your father's tomb. He left his mark buried in the rubble at the entrance."

Atemu nodded without even a glance. "We already knew that he would be the only person stupid enough…or perhaps crazy is a better word, to enter that tomb with all of its protections and wards. We needed no proof other than it had been done."

"True," Mahaad murmured.

"This is the reason you have come to disrupt my peace?' Atemu questioned after the silence settled about them.

Mahaad seemed to shift on his feet, his features contemplative, and Atemu nearly thought he was going to ignore the question. But he held his tongue from expressing his impatience and was rewarded when the priest turned to study him intently.

"I sense unrest, your Highness. It is in the air, all around. Please, do not take this warning lightly."

"Can you –"

"No, I cannot ascertain from where it comes." Mahaad replied before he had a chance to voice his question. "I just know it is there."

This time it was Atemu who shifted uncomfortably. He stared out over the expansive view of his Khemet. Peaceful, quiet. The stars holding steady to their positions in the sky. His eyes narrowed. Yes, he could feel it too, just beneath the tranquility, hiding under the picturesque setting that had become his home, his responsibility. Whatever it was, it was waiting, watching.

Atemu shook his head. "Have you spoken with Isis?"

"Yes, your majesty, I have already conferred with both Isis and Shadi. They too feel the unrest but are unable to sense from where it comes."

_I wish I knew more_, Atemu thought with a sigh. Was this feeling of impending doom coming from someone's evil intentions? Or from a power which they did not understand, and therefore had no way of fighting. Was it Bakura? His uncle perhaps? Or had they angered one of the gods in err? He would check with Shadi himself tomorrow to make certain that all of the offerings had been accepted.

"Very well, make Honda aware of the need to fill in our ranks. Work them overtime to counteract their months of inactivity. We shall strengthen our borders, and send a legion of spies out to infiltrate the other regimes for news of uprisings or an intent to invade."

Mahaad bowed low. "And I shall be certain to speak with Otogi of the state of our weaponry while I visit the barracks tomorrow."

"Very well, you may go." Atemu made a dismissing motion, turning back to the nighttime scene laid out before him as Mahaad made his way out of the room.

Had he erred in bringing the boy home with him? Had he brought this on? With a sigh Atemu turned his back on the darkness and slipped into his chambers to ready for bed. He highly doubted he would get much sleep with the questions that continued to plague him, but it was worth a try. If the next day continued along the same vein that his life had so far he would need it.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Please revew?


End file.
